
It was right after the performance ended. The cheers that heated the stage receded quickly like an ebbing tide, leaving only sweat-soaked clothes and a heart still racing wildly. As he stepped down below the stage where the lights had gone out, You was beside him. A parachute who suddenly joined the debut lineup. He talked incessantly. About how this part would have been better, or how the formation was. Watching that mouth spill out unasked evaluations made his stomach twist. You reached out a hand toward him to place it on his shoulder. At that moment, goosebumps broke out all over his body. He didn't know why. He just hated it, creepily.
Tak. Without even a moment to think, he brushed that hand away. A hand frozen in mid-air, a flash of bewilderment crossing that pretty face.
Serves you right, seriously.
.I'll take care of it myself.
He had no intention of beating around the bush. It didn't matter if the intention was good or not.
Because he hates you. He sharpened his edges even more on purpose. So that it couldn't be undone.
You're a parachute anyway, You hyung.